


Shout It From The Rooftops

by Violetcarson



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Public Display of Affection, Victor's massive ego
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 16:35:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9244775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violetcarson/pseuds/Violetcarson
Summary: Victor knows before he’s even left the ice that he’s won. It doesn’t come as much of a surprise. This season has been a high point for him. He’s in top form, both athletically and artistically. And it’s not really “outrageous bragging” or “an ego the size of the moon” if it’s true, no matter what Yura says.An AU in which Victor discovers an opportune moment to tell the world exactly what makes him so successful.





	

 

Victor knows before he’s even left the ice that he’s won. It doesn’t come as much of a surprise. This season has been a high point for him. He’s in top form, both athletically and artistically. And it’s not really “outrageous bragging” or “an ego the size of the moon” if it’s true, no matter what Yura says.

He takes his final bow, blowing a kiss to the crowd before gliding his way back toward the gate where Yakov stands holding his guards, already scowling. “Well Yakov? How’d I do?” he asks spreading his arms wide on approach. Yakov immediately launches into a rant, which Victor tunes out. He steps through, steadying himself against the barrier to wipe off his blades, and slides on the guards that Yakov hands him without pausing in his rant. He glances around the small crowd of other skaters, coaches, and random crew members, carefully casual. After a moment of searching and not finding, a sliver of disappointment curls inside him. He shakes it off, it’s ridiculous anyway and he should know better, and plasters on his most aristocratic Public Smile to accept the parade of backslaps and congratulations.

He half listens to Yakov’s rumbling voice as he thinks back through his performance, trying to remember any slight missteps that could affect his GOE scores. He doesn’t find many. He’s good at what he does, if he says so himself.

And he does say so. Frequently and with glee.He considers it his due, having devoted his entire life to his career. He’s given a lot to gain what he has. The unintentional side effects include a pair of knees that are starting to ache every night and a decided lack of close personal friendships, but that’s neither here nor there.

After what seems an excessive amount of time, Yakov’s tirade peters out, and Victor takes it as his cue to stroll leisurely towards the kiss-and-cry, draining a water bottle as he goes. Yakov grunts something unflattering under his breath and follows him.

The results are just as he’d expected. He hasn’t quite beaten his own world record, but he’s come close. As he’d already been in first place after the short program and had skated last, his win is secured. He waves his Makkachin tissue box at the camera, blowing another kiss.

Yakov snorts derisively at his antics. “Come, Victor. The press will be wanting you.”

Victor regards him lightly. “Oh Yakov, if you don’t stop scowling occasionally, Lilia will never take you back.” He stands and heads for the press booth, leaving Yakov squawking behind him.

As he walks, excitement and leftover adrenaline quicken his nerves, and he feels a heady giddiness. He has to work to keep his cool, detached smile cool and detached. He’s Victor Nikiforov, he reminds himself sternly. He’s a world champion several times over, and a revered idol in the skating world. He doesn’t need to skip to this solo interview.

There’s already a reporter waiting in the press booth. A shiver races down Victor’s spine as soon as he sees him. Yuuri is wearing a tightly fitted suit with a tragically hideous blue tie, bangs slicked back into artful disarray, chatting with the cameraman. His expression is intent, brows furrowed. Victor’s fingers itch to trace across his forehead, smoothing out the tense lines.

The smile deepens into something decidedly not for public consumption.

“Yuu-riii!” He calls as soon as he’s close enough to be heard over the dull roar of the crowd. He draws out the syllable, savoring the way the name feels rolling across his tongue.“I’m ready for my interview now.” Victor closes in quickly and reaches out, grasping for the end of that horrid tie.

Yuuri turns to face him but immediately steps back just slightly, dodging his questing fingers. “Victor!” he scolds. “There’s a camera right there.”

Victor halts, taken aback. “So?”

Yuuri ignores the question, and smiles up at him. “Congratulations,” he says instead. His voice is soft, far too personal for a reporter about to interview an athlete.

Victor feels his cheeks warm in response, and revels in the fact that he’s still wearing his skates, exaggerating the difference in their heights. “Thank you,” he says, “I was feeling particularly motivated to win today.”

Yuuri grins in response. “Well that’s probably something you should save for the interview. Which we need to get started.” He straightens slightly. Victor hadn’t even noticed the way they were leaning in towards each other. Yuuri turns back to the cameraman, checking that they’re ready to get started. When he turns back to Victor, he’s all business. 

“Are you ready?” He asks, the softness gone from his voice.

Victor sighs dejectedly, reluctant to let the moment go. “I suppose so. If I must be.”

“You must,” Yuuri says. So ruthless when he’s doing his job. Victor briefly considers clutching at his chest in anguish, but decides it’s better to get the interview over with as soon as possible, so he can drag Yuuri down the hallway toward the dressing rooms and receive some proper congratulations in relative privacy.

Victor schools his expression again, putting on his Public Face. It feels even more false than it had. The polite smile playing on his lips keeps trying to stretch into a genuine grin without his permission.

Yuuri begins his spiel at the cameraman’s signal. His voice is broadcast over the loudspeakers in the arena, and the noise from the audience picks up again. “We’re here with Victor Nikiforov, who has just solidified another win at the European Championships. Victor, how does it feel to take home the gold yet again?”

“Quite nice, truly. I feel like this season I’ve been able to explore a new, more emotional side to my skating, and I think today’s skate was a culmination of that.” Victor tries very hard to only glance between Yuuri’s face and the camera, but his eyes linger momentarily on Yuuri’s mouth as he speaks.

Yuuri clears his throat throat slightly and his tongue darts out to lick at his lips. Victor clasps his hands together behind his back so they don’t try to reach out and grab. “Well, you’ve certainly had a successful season so far. You came very close to beating your currently held world record today. What are you looking forward to going into Worlds?”

“Of course, I would love the opportunity to break that particular record. Perhaps I’ll pull it off after all, given the proper motivation. We’ll see, won’t we?”

Yuuri doesn’t falter. “Yes, I think we’re all looking forward to that very much. You said that today’s performance was special for you. Would you expand on that for us?”

“As I said, this season has been a particularly emotional one for me, and I’ve tried to use the support and love of the people close to me to bring my skating to another level. I really appreciate everyone who’s been there to support me, my friends and family back home in Russia and across the world, my coach, my fellow Russian team members…” He trails off suddenly awkward. He wants to continue, but doesn’t know if it would be welcome. Yuuri is always so odd about being close to him in public, and they hadn’t technically announced their relationship.

The brief silence is tight and heavy. Victor casts around, slightly desperate, for way to redirect the interview. When he smiles politely and focuses back on Yuuri, ready to cheerfully change the subject, he notices that Yuuri is looking down at the ground between them, just for a moment losing his usual on-camera persona.

His eyes are tight, his mouth is pursed ever so slightly into a frown. Victor feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

The moment passes, though not quickly enough that the audience won’t have noticed something is off. Yuuri runs a quick hand across his slicked back hair and looks back up with a determined smile. “That’s good. Now, could you tell us about some of your plans for next season? You’ve said before that you are considering retiring-“

“Actually, I need to thank you as well, Yuuri,” Victor cuts him off. He never wants to see that expression on Yuuri’s face again. “You’re the reason for all of it after all.”

Yuuri’s mouth drops open in shock. Before he can respond, Victor steps in, finally closing that distance between them. He slides his hand along Yuuri’s jaw, tilting his face up. He can hear the gasp of a PA off to the side of the booth and the crowd’s noise level picking up all around them, but he focuses on Yuuri. “Thank you Yuuri. This has been the best season of my life, and I couldn’t have done it without you,” he says, and leans in to press a quick kiss against Yuuri’s still-parted lips.

The arena explodes with shouting and a sudden surge of applause, which Victor ignores. He watches the blush that surges across Yuuri’s face with satisfaction, hand lingering against the skin of his neck for a moment before he steps back. Yuuri’s eyes are still wide with shock. Victor winks at him.

He turns away, grinning sunnily at the camera for a moment. “Sorry to cut the inteview short but I have to dash. It’s a pleasure as always to be interviewed by you,” He throws back over his shoulde. There’s bounce to his steps as he strides away. He feels the sudden urge to spring into a jump, ice or no ice.

A couple moments later, he hears Yuuri’s stunned laugh behind him. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to finish the rest of that interview later,” Yuuri says, and begins his sign off.

Victor traces a lazy finger across his own lips as he looks around for Yakov, appreciating the shocked faces all around him.

They’ll be finishing something later, that’s for sure.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something based on [this video of a footballer kissing his reporter girlfriend during an interview](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1v4Ckq0KHM0), and YOI seemed like the perfect excuse. So in this universe, Yuuri becomes a commentator and sports reporter after being forced to retire. Of course he and Victor end up together anyway. Victor probably just flirted at him in interviews and every time they were at the same competition until Yuuri gave in and made out with him enthusiastically in a back hallway under the stands somewhere. I promise next time I write fic for this pairing I won’t sideline Yuuri so much, but I couldn’t resist this idea. I’m on tumblr at [clearancecreedwatersurvival](http://www.clearancecreedwatersurvival.tumblr.com) if you want to join my 24/7 scremfest about Yuri!!! On Ice. I haven't written much in the past few years, so feedback is definitely appreciated.


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